Ribbons In Her Hair
by ColoursPromises
Summary: Set after the first Games and before the Victory Tour. Katniss comes to the realization that maybe she takes Peeta's love for granted and there are many girls who would be happy to take her place.


_Set after the first Games and before the Victory Tour. In my version Katniss does have feelings for Peeta, but claims she cannot think about or act on them because she has everything else to deal with first. Hope you enjoy, thank you!_

Ribbons In Her Hair

Every worry, every pessimistic thought or anxiety riddled conspiracy theories were always instantly washed away with comfort and relief every time I entered the square and laid eyes on the Mallark's family bakery. Like the woods, it was where I felt as sense of home and familiarity. I didn't know if it was because it was here, all those years ago Peeta tossed me the strength to become what I needed to or because I aware he was inside, ready to drop everything and wrap me in strong, sturdy arms. Either reasoning, he was the cause of my relief, which is probably the explanation to why it was only his arms that could comfort me after a nightmare.

My hand found the gashes in the bark as a passed the tree that provided me shelter the night I met Peeta, and continued to the bakery. A pale, soft orange sky, streaked with cream clouds was a blanket that kept the evening warm, so when I arrived I didn't have to open the door to enter.

The familiar, gentle face I needed to see was just where I thought it'd be. Peeta was at the dark cherry island in the center of the room, leaned over so close to one of the cakes he was decorating, I was amazed frosting wasn't smeared all over his nose. With one of his large, rough hands he gracefully turned the plate so the snowy white dessert spun around in circles and with the other, created little individual pink petals, that made up flowers along the border. His concentration was unmatched and a smile crept on my face as I watched him in his own world. Even if it was just for a moment he was away from it all. He wasn't haunted by his past memories and he didn't have to worry about the Capitol or the Games or even my and my conflicted affections. For that moment he was free. Though, just as I decided to leave him for the time being, the market girl who had her hair tied back with a bright yellow ribbon, standing next to him, had a different idea as she bent over to his level.

"See?" Peeta turned his head and smiled at her, so their lips were inches apart. "It's much easier than it looks I promise."

The girl protested and flattened out her dress, the same colour of her ribbon. It was far too fancy for everyday District 12 life and was clearly pulled out for a special occasion. Yet, the baker was persistent and handed her the tube of pink frosting.

"Come on," he chuckled so genuinely it could make anyone feel warm inside. He placed one hand around hers and steadied it while rotating the plate with his other, drawing a line around the bottom of the cake. The market girl clapped her hands together and looked at him with such admiration I snorted.

Peeta glanced up at me and a smile washed over his face. He finally stood to an upright position and wiped his hands on a wash cloth. "Katniss."

I studied the Peeta's friend and the two girls behind her, who seemed shuffle their feet and avert their gaze. Only the market girl looked me in the eyes and smiled, which honestly made me feel even more uncomfortable.

"Katniss this is Serena. Serena this is Katniss Everdeen," Peeta introduced us. I wrapped my grey cardigan around me tighter and crossed my arms. The smile I flashed was so pathetic, if it were for cameras Effie would have had a heart attack and died. "Serena wants to be a baker, she's asked me for lessons."

"Wow," I scanned the kitchen for an excuse to leave. "That's great. I'm sure you'll be a great teacher."

Serena beamed as if she thought of him as some God. I couldn't deny, being a victor of the Hunger Games, knowing how to bake and paint like he did and staying incredible humble through it all were incredibly admirable qualities. He wasn't that hard to look and either and there sure as hell wasn't exactly a lack of girls lining up now days, but I'd never asked Peeta if he had had any girlfriends before the Games.

"I was just picking up the rolls for dinner tonight." It wasn't really a lie. I _was_ planning on doing it later that evening.

"Oh yeah of course," Peeta went back to cleaning up the edges of the dessert and gestured to the cash register. "They're right there, ready for pick up."

I stuffed the brown paper bag under my left arm so my hands were free to sort through the coins I retrieved from my pocket.

"Really, Katniss?" Peeta wiped his knit brows with the back of his forearm and almost laughed at my intent to pay him. "Don't worry about it. It's on me."

I shoved my hands back into the pockets of my cardigan, with the bag still under my arm, and swiftly nodded and left, avoiding any eye contact.

* * *

The tomato soup began bubbling over the small fire pit in my counter and I gently stirred it with a wooden spoon. Of course I didn't cook it. I burnt water. Thankfully, Peeta learnt this during the early weeks of our return and every time he knew my mother was unable to make dinner for us, he always dropped off a portion of his dinner to last us a few days, just so we could have a proper meal because he knew I refused any Capitol staff in my kitchen.

I found a metal container that shared too close a resemblance to the packages Haymitch sent me in the arena and poured some spare soup into it so I could take it hunting tomorrow. When I placed it on the dining table I realized I'd forgotten to give Peeta my leftover bread. He had such a long day today he might not have the energy to prepare any breakfast for him for tomorrow. As I tried to peel off the yellow note it softly glided to the ground and crouched down to the old oak flooring and flipped the sticky note to find a memo scribbled on the back.

_KATNISS EVERDEEN _

_White Rolls 6x_

It always said the same thing. I could even picture Peeta taking the time away from his jobs to personally package my orders and scribbling that little heart at the end of my name. Simultaneously, I crumpled the little piece of paper in my hand and made my way to the front door. Though the evening had a brought a slight chill, I didn't think it necessary to put on shoes simply to walk twenty-five feet.

I opened the door and stepped into the Mallark household. It was a lot cozier than mine. Peeta's family had actually taken the time to transform it into a home. There were oriental rugs of blue, or red, and gold well placed in the hallways and rooms of the house, so whatever weather the season brought, the cold oak wouldn't send chills up your spine. Pictures of the Mallark children hung along the walls and artifacts and vases of roses were displayed on the floating shelves that were just higher than my eye level. Many of there things were from their previous house in the square, including the paintings that I'm sure were drawn by the hands of Peeta. They were utterly breathtaking, he really did have a gift. One of the first times he invited me over after we had returned from the Capitol, I spent an entire day just walking around the house admiring them all. However, they were old. One night we spent together he explained anything he had painted since the Games had been nothing but disturbing memories. It was like therapy, a relaxation method to cope with the nightmares he'd been having, but they weren't pictures he could look at for more than a few minutes.

I walked down the hall and found Peeta sitting in one of off-white chairs, pressed up close to the fireplace. At first it seemed like he was studying it, perhaps taking a mental picture so he could paint it later, but the longer I looked I realized he wasn't even looking at the fire. He was in his own world again and once again I was disturbing him. I debated just leaving the bread on the counter and returning home, but I was too selfish to leave and felt warm inside when he noticed I was there and greeted me with one of his famous, genuine smiles.

"I brought the rolls," I lifted the bag to show him and then set it on kitchen counter before sitting down in the chair opposite to him and crossing my legs underneath me. "Thought maybe you could have them for breakfast tomorrow. I know you had to get up early."

"Thanks. Yeah, I'm exhausted, but I still can't sleep. That seems to be happening too much now days," he shook his head. We'd both had trouble sleeping. Most nights were constantly riddled with nightmares, so eventually we started spending them together when we could. He was the only one that could calm me down and make me feel safe and he claimed I did the same. "Want a drink?"

"That'd be great," I nodded and watched the fire as he walked over to the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder as he pulled out coco powder from one of the bottom cupboards and scooped two large spoonfuls into two large, porcelain mugs. If anyone told me I'd be sitting in the baker's son's living room, in the middle of the night, drinking hot chocolate, because there was nowhere else I'd rather be. I would have wondered why they were talking to me in the first place and then written them off as crazy.

"That girl with you today was very pretty," I casually stated and continued poking the fire.

"Who, Serena?" His eyes flickered up to meet mine, as much as he could while still trying to focus on pouring the scolding water. "Yeah she has real potential. I think with a some classes she might even be able to start helping around at the bakery."

"That'd be good. You could use the help around there now that John's going to work in the mines," I encouraged, even though I wondered if he didn't comment on my observation on purpose. Truth was, as much as he loved baking, Peeta could have used some mornings off. He over exerted himself.

"And it'd be nice to have a new face around. It's so strange that someone actually takes an interest in baking, too," he chuckled and brought our drinks over. I placed mine in my lap and stared at the bubbles swirling around, with overwhelming guilt. All this time Peeta had always taken an interest in my life. Always asked me about how hunting was, how Prim and my Mother were, even Gale occasionally. I'd never once asked him about how to decorate cakes and talked very little about his paintings. I was always wrapped up in trying to move on from the Games and trying to deal with everything, never once considering Peeta was going through the same thing.

"I don't think she's there solely for the cakes," I snorted and immediately hoped I hadn't accidently said that out loud, but Peeta's expression clarified that I had and as I stood up quickly towards the door I couldn't stop myself from shoving my foot further in my mouth. "Well, come on, you're a charming victor and the Capitol loves you. If we were still there you'd be the next Finnick Odair."

Yes, I did just call Peeta a womanizing, vapid, playboy. I briefly glanced over at the side table next to me, secretly wishing there were some nightlock berries in a bowl so I could just stop talking.

"Katniss are you," he paused for a moment.

I wasn't jealous, but ashamed. I knew how Peeta felt about me and yet ribbons in her hair was doing what I should have been doing all along. Be there for him. "Done with your drink?"

"No!" I rose my voice in complete defense, until I realized he hadn't asked what I thought he was going to. "I mean- yes, here."

I stiffly held out my mug and he took it with a smirk, that made me roll my eyes and tried to leave.

"Katniss," Peeta called after me so softly for some reason my heart dropped. My hand let go of the doorknob and fell back at my side. I looked over my shoulder and stared at his feet. "I know I promised to not mention it anymore, but falling for you, it wasn't a choice. You kind of left me with no other option."

I turned to face him, not knowing if he was insulting or complimenting me. I planned to say something else I'd probably regret, but when our eyes met any accusation that would have come inevitable remorse got stuck in my throat. I hadn't seen him look at me like that since in the arena after I had returned with his medicine and he applied some to the gash on my forehead that the girl from District 1 gave me.

"After that day when you sang in class, you made it very clear there is no one else in this world I could possibly want," he shrugged and kind of chuckled, probably at my expression. He plucked one of the roses out the blue vase on the table beside him, taking care to make sure it wasn't a white one and held it out for me. "I can't change it."

I smiled and accepted the rose. I couldn't focus on my feelings for him while trying to deal with the effects of the Games, and prepare with the upcoming victory tour at the end of the summer, and trying to mend my friendship with Gale, and wondering about how to convince the Capitol, but he wasn't asking me to. He wasn't pressuring me to. He was my friend regardless. Maybe it was because he knew my feelings would eventually catch up to his.

"Will you teach me how to decorate cakes?" I genuinely asked, glancing up from admiring my rose. He looked taken back and as he chuckled his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"If you take me hunting one day, then yes," Peeta grinned and promised I would, before heading out the door. As I walked across the yard I smiled to myself. I didn't have to look back to know **he watched me go home.**


End file.
